"Good morning, Mr. Thornton," said Billy Byles, in a cheerful tone. "You must have been out early to have got so far from your place by this time."
"So must you, Mr. Byles," replied Thornton, who, to say the truth, was a tall, stout, good-looking man, from whose appearance I certainly should never have divined his character. "You seem to have ridden hard too; your horse is all in a sweat." By this time, seeing their leaders stop to converse, the drivers of the waggons had brought them to a halt; while Mr. Lewis had noticed me with a somewhat shy inclination of the head, as if he suspected at once that something was not all right; and Mr. Leary began to talk in a low tone to one of the two men who accompanied us.
"We have been hunting," said Billy Byles, in answer to Robert Thornton's last observation.
"Hunting!" exclaimed the other; "hunting on the first of June!"
"Ay, ay, I know it is out of season; but you see I wanted to give our English friend here a sight of some sports such as he does not have in his own country. Have you seen anything of the rest of our party? for we have cut across, hoping to join them about here."
"No," answered Thornton; "we have seen nobody since we started, neither man nor beast. Now, Mr. Byles, I must wish you good morning, for I have business on hand."
"So I see," retorted Billy Byles, not moving out of the way a step. "A nice lot of negroes, upon my word. Why, hang it, there's old Lydia, who was Mrs. Bab Thornton's woman!"
"Perhaps so," said Thornton, impatiently; "but I must get on. Come along, boys!"
"Stop, stop, Thornton!" exclaimed Billy Byles. "I have got something to say to you in private--a little hint which may be serviceable to you."
"Say it out then," returned Thornton, with a flush upon his cheek. "I don't care a cuss about secrets; and I'm in a hurry."